


Father of the Bride

by Wint3r_B3ar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Minor Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wint3r_B3ar/pseuds/Wint3r_B3ar
Summary: Hubert's daughter is getting married. He's not happy.Written for Merciebert Weekend :D
Relationships: Mercedes von Martritz/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Father of the Bride

Ten years of marriage and three sons later and Hubert had very nearly lost all hope of having a daughter.

Not that he didn’t love his boys- he did, very much so- but he’d always wanted just one daughter for himself. Girls were special, he should know. He’d served the Emperor for years already.

Imagine, then, his great happiness when after a difficult pregnancy and an even harder labor, Mercedes gave birth to a baby girl.

She was born just over 7lbs, red and wrinkly, a fist raised almost in defiance and Hubert immediately loved her more than he’d loved anyone in his life, ever.

Hubert cried with her when she let out her first cry and cried some more when the nurses deposited her into his arms while they attended to Mercedes’s after-birth.

He loathed to give her up, even for his wife to nurse her, and he felt his eyes tearing anew as his baby girl quieted down and grasped onto his pinky finger.

Mercedes laughed fondly, pleased he was already so in love. She could tell their daughter was going to have her father wrapped around her perfect, tiny finger.

And quite honestly, Mercedes wouldn’t have it any other way.

…

“ _All_ boys are stupid? Even Freddy?” Little Emma giggled from where she was perched on her father’s lap, running her hands across his rough, 5 o’clock shadow.

Hubert peppered her little fingers with little kisses as he nodded, “Yes. _All_ boys are stupid. But especially Freddy von Aegir. He’s the most foolish of them all.”

 _Just like his father,_ Hubert almost said aloud. He glanced at Mercedes who was blessedly preoccupied with being _disappointed_ with their son. See? All men. Idiots.

He would have to deal with whatever mishap his eldest had gotten into later- although nothing could truly be worse than the time the little fucker accidentally blew up a part of the palace.

Emma laughed, delighted, “But daddy! I _like_ Freddy. I’m going to marry him when I get older.”

Hubert blanched and stiffened.

“No. No daughter of mine is marrying a von Aegir.”

“Uh-oh. Daddy are you mad?”

“No, honey, he’s not mad. Why don’t you get ready for bed, sweetheart?” Mercedes, evidently finished with ragging on their son, lifted her from Hubert’s lap and nudged her along.

They both watched as she scampered to her room before Mercedes settled into his lap instead.

“So. I take it you don’t want to be in-laws with the von Aegirs?”

“I’d rather eat rat poison.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes, “Oh please, darling. You like Ferdinand and Dorothea, they’re good people.”

“I like Dorothea. I tolerate Ferdinand because I have to work with him.”

Mercedes frowned, “That’s not true. Don’t be mean, Ferdinand’s your friend.”

Hubert rolled his eyes. Mercedes was sweet and kind and he loved her for it but sometimes it disagreed with his naturally mean and petty demeanor.

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I want to be in-laws with them. If anything, I don’t want her marrying into that family because I know them so well.”

It was true. Ferdinand was annoying at a distance. Imagine him as family?

Hubert resisted a shudder as he thought of matching pajama set holiday cards and cheesy family calendars.

“Ok, alright. I’m just saying there could be worse people to be in-laws with than the von Aegirs.” Mercedes shrugged and smoothed his hair out of his eyes, “Also, honey, I think you’re due for another haircut.”

Hubert scowled, “Why did you have to say that? Now we’re really going to be jinxed with in-laws worse than them.”

Mercedes tightened her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, “Well maybe we just need a change in perspective. Maybe we’re the ones that’ll be the nightmare in-laws.”

Hubert snorted a smile as he rubbed her stockinged calf in acquiescence. Other people might have been offended at the thought of being nightmare in-laws but it suited Hubert just fine.

The conversation drifted onto other topics after that but Hubert couldn’t help the very corner of his mind as it went through the list of possible in-laws worse than the von Aegirs.

Eventually, Hubert decided as long as none of his kids married a Gloucester or a Gautier, he’d be fine, matching pajama calendars be damned.

…

Hubert glowered at the engagement ring. It was too big and gaudy on his daughter’s delicate finger and he resisted the urge to pluck it off and throw it into the bay.

“Oh darling, I can’t believe you’re getting married!” Mercedes was wiping away tears as she hugged their daughter tightly.

“I know, I can’t believe it either!” The two women were glowing with happiness.

“Me neither,” grumbled Hubert as his wife examined the ring again.

Mercedes asked how the proposal went and Hubert didn’t think he could take any more of this bullshit. Not only was his daughter still a child at 24, she was marrying her idiot on-again-off-again boyfriend of four years.

Hubert just knew he should have been more strict with his daughter that first time she brought Gunnar Rene Gautier home to his utter dismay.

The little fucker was a dead-ringer for his father. A swarmy jerk that had already broken Emma’s heart a few times before.

He could only hope Gunnar would fuck up - _again_ \- before they walked down the aisle and save them the hassle of planning a wedding or worse, a divorce.

Emma reached out to him for a hug and he didn’t have the heart to turn her away, “An engagement doesn’t mean a set deal. You can always change your mind,” he whispered into her ear as she laughed and laughed.

“So silly, daddy,” she said in her soft, airy voice- just like her mother’s. She beamed at him and pet his beard like she used as a child and Hubert sighed.

“Shouldn’t you wait until you’re 25 at least before you decide you want to marry him? Your brain’s not fully developed just yet.”

Mercedes fixed him with her _look_ -the one she used to use on their boys- but Hubert ignored the warning and continued on as the maître d led the family to their private table in the rose gardens, “At least wait until _he’s_ 25\. The boy barely has a functioning brain.”

Emma winked at her parents-winked! No Vestra _winked!_ It must be the influence of that Gautier boy!- and leaned forward, “But daddy, that’s the best part about Gunnar. He’s dumb in all the best ways.”

“I can’t believe this,” Hubert grumbled as he considered his next course of action.

An assassination would be clean and easy but Mercedes and more importantly, Emma would know it was him. He wouldn’t be able to get out of that one without devastating his daughter and that was wholly unacceptable.

And that was besides the legal and political ramifications that would follow the death of a Gautier, as insignificant as Gunnar was. It would probably end the cease-fire between Adrestia and Faerghus and Hubert was certain Edelgard would be furious.

He could poison Gunnar, make him impotent…but again, Mercedes would know and Hubert wasn’t sure he could deal with the full wrath of his wife on top of everything else.

Maybe he could enlist the help of his brother-in-law, Jeritza. Jeritza was famously overprotective of his sister; rumor was he’d once chased away the pesky Gautier senior from Mercedes. Perhaps he would extend that same courtesy to his niece and chase away Gautier junior from Emma.

Wistful thinking. If Hubert was wrapped around Emma’s little finger on her one hand, her Uncle Jeritza occupied her other. There was no way he’d do anything against her wishes.

Or maybe he could change his daughter’s mind-but she was stubborn like her mother when she set her mind and it wouldn’t be easy.

“What happened to marrying Freddy?”

Mercedes and Emma exchanged looks, like they knew something he didn’t. That just rankled Hubert’s ire more.

“Honey. Freddy… well, he’d be more interested in Gunnar than Emma.” Mercedes was bright pink and Hubert wasn’t completely sure she was upset or about to burst into laughter. He’d been toeing the line between being, according to Mercedes, _Vestra-funny_ and downright rude all morning.

“I know.” He sighed, took a sip of coffee and sat back against the chair, “And where are the Gautiers? They’re late.”

Emma glanced at her watch before excusing herself- no doubt to wait for their guests outside. Hubert found it distasteful and rude of the Gautiers to make them wait but held his tongue.

Once Emma was out of earshot, Mercedes turned to him, disappointment written all over her face.

“Couldn’t you at least try to put on a happy face? For Emma?”

“I’m being as civil as I possibly can. How could you go along with this? You know he’s not good enough for our daughter.”

“Hubert,” Mercedes started, “it’s not up to us to decide if he’s good enough or not. Emma’s decided he’s good enough and if she’s happy, I don’t think we have any right to say otherwise.”

Hubert resisted the urge to roll his eyes and lit a cigarette instead. Mercedes frowned- she hated when he smoked at the table- but didn’t comment on it.

She leaned forward on her elbows, “You do know he’s also Ingrid’s son? You love Ingrid.”

That much was true. Hubert was quite fond of the no-nonsense woman who bred the best pegusi in all of Fodlan.

She was the only redeeming part of this whole thing. A few years ago, Hubert had taken Emma to Galatea where they kept the farms and Ingrid had been a gracious host, allowing Hubert and Emma to play with and care for newborn foals for a glorious two weeks.

Mercedes smiled as she saw Hubert’s hesitation, “See? It won’t be so bad.”

He opened his mouth to protest but was rudely interrupted by the Gautier men rushing in like the crude northerners they were. Emma and Ingrid trailed behind them, a sheepish smile on Emma and an embarrassed one Ingrid.

“Hubie! It’s been too long, buddy.”

“It’s Hubert.”

“Sorry, Hubert. Right. Can’t believe we’re going to be in-laws, eh? Ah Mercedes, looking divine as always.” Sylvain swooped Mercedes into a hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. Hubert’s piss boiled at the scene but he held his tongue and chose to glare angrily at the back of Sylvain’s now more silver than red hair instead.

Mercedes for her part smiled good naturedly and pat his back, “It’s lovely to see you too, Sylvain.”

She greeted Ingrid with a hug and smiled behind a hand as Gunnar greeted her with as cheesy a quip as his father.

Hubert rolled his eyes and caught Ingrid settling into the table across from him with a wry smile. He didn’t even get a chance to explain before Ingrid shook her head, “I know. Believe me.”

Sylvain had taken his seat next to her and was already ordering drinks for the table. Hubert despised day-drinking. Things were already off to a grim start.

Hubert was one snide comment away from Mercedes pinching his thigh below the table but to his credit, it was Sylvain who dropped the most ludicrous comment thus far:

“We used to joke about making crest-babies when we were in school, looks like our kids will be making ‘em instead.” Sylvain leaned back and raised his glass, “To crest babies, and the little bun in the oven. I can’t wait to be a grandpa.”

Hubert couldn’t hear. He couldn’t see, either. There was an awful ringing in his ears and his vision had tunneled so that he could barely see in front of him.

He…He was drunk, right? He was just saying things, right?

Hubert glared at Sylvain and found the man’s eyes incredibly alert and his face just as glum. What the fuck.

Hubert slowly turned to Emma who nervously clinked glasses with her future father-in-law. Her glass. Of orange juice. No mimosas. Or bellinis. Not even a sip of champagne.

“Emma?”

It was dead silent. His daughter cringed, “About that, daddy…”

Oh fucking hell. This idiot knocked up his daughter. There was no way he was going to be civil, not anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Ehehe I hope you had fun reading since I had a lot of fun imagining Hubert as an overprotective dad. It's been a spot of joy for me while dealing with a rough few weeks. I can't wait to catch up on all my Merciebert goodness-enjoy my little contribution in the meantime! I hope i can get the ending up soon lol 
> 
> Anyways, have a happy Merciebert weekend, everyone! <3


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